Cops and Robbers Don't Mix
by S.A.N.e-but-inS.A.N.e
Summary: When Nick is severely injured, Monroe not only has to take care of the injured Grimm, but must also figure out if this attack was Grimm related or Cop related. Not slash. Just friendship.
1. The Grimm

**Disclaimer: Don't own the show or characters. Just felt the need to have some fun with them. If they were mine, the show would be going in a totally different way.**

Gingerly, he sat down cradling his right arm close to his chest while his left was wrapped securely around his midsection. "Well this truly sucks," he thinks to himself. He adjusts to a more comfortable position with more or less of a grimace. Everything from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes, hurt. Not just a sore hurt, but a pulsing pain that only intensified if he moved or breathed. He could probably handle the not moving part for the good part of the rest of the day, but the not breathing part would be difficult. It wasn't like he could hold his breath: he would eventually die. Come to think of it, he didn't really think he could even hold it for that long. He was never that good a swimmer any way.

He had no recollection of how long he had sat on the couch; he must have dozed off for a few hours. He wasn't sure what had woken him up, but the resounding thud on the front door summed it up for him.

Without thinking, he proceeded to jump up off the couch to answer the door. That was a mistake. The instant he was up on his feet, vertigo hit him full force and his muscles screamed in protest.

"Gah," is all he could say without throwing up what little he had eaten today due to the swirling of the room. He again, brought his arm around his ribs and protectively his other up to his chest, doubling over. He tried to breathe through the pain and nausea, willing it to at least dissipate to a more manageable level.

In his haste to recover from this, he had forgotten why he had gotten up in the first place.

"What's taking him so long?" Monroe said to himself. He once again resorted to pounding on the wood that separated him from the warm confines of Nick's house. It had to be at least thirty degrees out here. He had the slightest idea why he was out here freezing his balls off, waiting so patiently for the Grimm to answer the door. Well, the said Grimm had so pleasantly called him and asked - more like demanded his help on a detective case he was working on. Monroe had so politely told him he would be over in ten. He remembered hanging up the phone haphazardly, and grumbling some inappropriate words directed at Nick. He did like Nick, he really did, Nick just called him up at the wrong times. He would rarely call when he was doing nothing. He would usually interrupt his rest or his meal times. "Did Nick ever eat or sleep?" he thought.

Monroe was now getting irritated. If Nick didn't care enough to let him into his house after about twenty knocks, why should he care about helping him solve his case that probably had something to do with an outraged Wesen.

"Nick! Come on, Dude! It's freezing out her! Open up the door before I resort to opening it for you!" After Monroe didn't get an answer from the house, he wondered if Nick was even home. He quickly checked the driveway. Nick's car was there, parked in the middle of the small slab of concrete. If his car was there, why wasn't he answering the door?

The Blutbad rounded the house once again and quickly walked up the three steps to the front door. He decided to knock again. Nick could probably be in the bathroom or the basement where he couldn't hear the door. But, Monroe couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right with the Grimm.

Monroe had been right. Inside the house, Nick was still battling the pain. He was now leaning heavily on the armrest of the couch with his uninjured arm bearing most the weight his legs and feet could not. His legs felt like they were filled with Jell-O with the addition to the throbbing agony in his left ankle. "Great, add another injury to the mix and you get one very messed up guy," Nick mumbled underneath his breath. He tried to move away from the couch to try to sit back down, but his foot had gotten caught in the rug that had been placed beside the couch.

He couldn't even catch himself before he fell. For one thing, it happened so fast, he didn't think any on could catch themselves unless they were some type of vampire or something with fast reflexes. For another, he had only one arm to catch himself as the other one was useless due to the little incident earlier that day.

Nick had hit the floor with a small "thud." He now lay with his back facing up to the ceiling and his face smashed against the carpet. He gasped as the fall had awakened many new aches and pains. What hurt the most was his arm; it pulsed excruciatingly with a vengeance he never truly felt before. All the way from the top of his shoulder to the tip of his middle finger had ignited with the pain he so desperately wanted to stop. Among the other injuries, his head and chest came in as a close second to his high pain level. He could hear his heart beating rapidly against his chest: his head thudding in tune with it.

He sucked in as much air as he could without aggravating his ribs, - which wasn't as much as he needed - to try to breathe through the agony, but it just resulted in a wheeze that left him even more breathless. As anyone would do when they couldn't breathe, he began to panic. He kept trying to take in deep gulps of air, but it was resulting in the same outcome. His vision began to blur at the edges; he was slowly losing the fight to stay in the world of the living. Eventually, he succumbed to the blackness and slipped into unconsciousness and failed to hear the frantic yelling and pounding on the front door from his best friend, the very concerned Blutbad.

"Nick! Come on man, open the door!" Monroe's heat was racing. He would never admit it to anyone, but he was really worried now. He had pounded on the door consistently, without any kind of response. Even though Nick was a prankster, he would never take it this far. "Come on, this isn't funny any more!"

Monroe couldn't stand the nagging feeling in his gut anymore. He stepped back from the door trying to get a good running start. Without any more thought, he rammed into the door and felt the splintering wood pieces sting his arms and face. After he had gathered his wits from his little "run in," he looked around the room to find his friend, the stupid Grimm.

He finally found him and what he saw was not a pretty sight. Nick was face first to the floor. Without even looking at his face, he knew that he was not well. He quickly ran to his side and turned him onto his back. He was extremely pale; his dark hair stood out against his translucent skin with beads of perspiration rolling down his neck and forehead.

"Nick! Nick!" Monroe tried to wake the younger man up. He gently slapped his cheek a couple of times and was rewarded with fluttering eyelids.

"Nick? Nick, you with me?"

"M'roe...Wha?" Nick slurred. He tried getting himself into a sitting position, but Monroe gently pushed him back down to the floor.

"Don't try to get up. You look like you might keel over and die if you even move a muscle."

Nick didn't protest. He was feeling worse for wear and really didn't feel well enough to move. He was wondering how he had ended up at his house let alone on the floor of his house. Eventually, it all came back to him quickly, a little too quickly which sent his head spinning in his weakened state. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the dizziness.

Monroe looked down at his friend. "You okay Nick?" When he didn't get a response, he thought Nick had fallen unconscious again. "Nick...Nick, you gotta stay awake!" he yelled frantically. "No' too loud..."M head hurtz..." "Sorry Buddy. Do you think we can get you laying back on the couch so I can see your injuries better?" "Kay," is all he got in return.

Monroe was hesitant to move him, but he couldn't just leave him there on the floor. He knew he could do more harm than good-by moving him, but his position on the floor didn't look all that comfortable.

As gently as the Blutbad could, he slid one arm underneath Nick's torso and the other under his knees. With that action, he was rewarded - he wouldn't necessarily call it a reward - with a cry of pain. He didn't know what injury he had aggravated, as most had been concealed, but he knew if Nick was voicing it, it had to be pretty bad. He quickly placed Nick in a lying position on the couch and tried to think what to do next. What had happened to Nick? Was he attacked by a Wesen, or simply a criminal out for revenge? Was the guy still out there?

Monroe had so many questions, but first he had to make sure Nick was alright.

"Nick? Can you tell me what hurts?"

Nick looked up at Monroe with bleary eyes. "'M fine," he stated quietly. "Come on Nick, you and I both know that you're not fine," Monroe said annoyed. Figures. Nick never admitted to pain that he felt. He was stubborn; too stubborn. He knew that Nick was hurting; the simple fact that he voiced his pain in the task of moving, let Monroe know that he was in fact, injured to the point where he would either need a lot of rest or a hospital. Monroe was inching towards a hospital and that was bad. He hadn't even seen any of the many injuries he knew were there, but he knew that Nick would never succumb to that fact unless he was dying and even that would become a struggle to convince him to go to one. He just hoped that it didn't come to that.

The only thing that Nick felt like doing was sleeping. He didn't want to tell Monroe what hurt and what caused his injuries. He was totally exhausted. He desperately needed and wanted to sleep for at least a week, uninterrupted. He decided the fastest way to get to that sleep was to comply with Monroe's question.

"'M head...arm," he gasped when he said this as he was rudely reminded of the fire burning deep within the limb, "n chest 'n ankle."

Monroe started looking over the Grimm's injuries. He started with his arm; looking at it made Monroe cringe in pain. Nick's shirt sleeve had been ripped open exposing a long gash across the skin covering his collarbone that extended to the end of his shoulder. It was discolored, swollen and slightly hot to the touch, the telltale signs of infection setting in. It also looked like his shoulder could be dislocated; possibly broken. Scaling his eyes down the rest of his arm, he found many more cuts and bruises.

Nick remained quiet; Monroe could tell he was in a half-conscious state and was actually glad that he was. If it looked too painful to touch, he couldn't fathom how it actually felt.

He looked over the rest of his injuries and came to one conclusion, Nick needed a hospital. Of what he could see Nick had many lacerations and bruises that scattered all around his body. His torso had dark purple and brown splotches littering both sides. His ankle was swollen slightly; probably just sprained, but still painful as ever. His hair was matted to the congealed blood that stuck to the wound on his scalp. It looked bad, but then again head wounds always look worse than they are. He probably does have quite the concussion, though. Overall, Monroe thought that the worst injury was probably his arm. But, that was without thinking of internal bleedings and organ problems. Great, now he was thinking of scenarios with grave outcomes. One consisted of Nick dying right then and there because of internal bleeding, or because of his heart failing to beat another time. _Instead of thinking of what could happen, why don't you get the severely injured - maybe even critically injured - Nick to the hospital to prevent your very thought out scenarios?_ Monroe's rational part of his brain said. _Yeah, let's do that,_ he answered in his head.

"Okay, let's do this!" Monroe tried to prepare himself for what he had to do next because he really did not want to do it. "Nick. Nick." As gently as he could he shook his half-conscious friend.

"Hmm?" Nick muttered trying to open his half-closed eyes. It was becoming harder and harder to stay in the world of the living. "I'll expl'n la'er."_ Right now I need a_ _nap_. Eventually, his exhaustion won out and his weakened body succumbed to the darkness. He wasn't aware that Monroe was desperately trying to keep him awake by slapping the living hell out of him.

Monroe would soon find out that he wouldn't get that explanation any time soon. There was still more to this than meets the eye.

**A/N: So what did you think so far? I'm new to this and would like to know how I am doing. I know that this is a pretty long chapter, but it was already typed up, so I said, why not? Please review and tell me what you think! It will make my day! If you are the first to review, I'll give you a virtual hug! Come on now, who could refuse that?**


	2. The Nurse

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! Everyone brought smiles to my face! I just wanted to say some things and then we will get on with the story!**

**I said that the first reviewer would get a virtual hug and that was a Guest reviewer so I don't really know who that is, but I appreciate them. I give them a virtual hug along with LittleBounce because they were the first one to review with an account. Thanks guys you are considered my number one fans!**

**Pajaro Negro: I just want to thank you for giving me my first batch of constructive criticism. I agree with you totally! I will definitely work on that!**

**gramA: Thank you for the wonderful review! You made my year! I love you so much!**

**So, I don't know how this chapter turned out, but I was so eager to post it. It may seem dumb, short, rushed, or all of the above. For some odd reason, I find it easier to get inside Nick's head. Monroe is slightly harder. I hope I did alright.**

**Again, very new at this so I don't know how long I am suppose to wait to give you an update. Four days, a week, ten minutes? What do you guys think? :)**

**Anyway, let's get on with the story because I am sure you don't want to listen to me talk forever. That's what school is for! Hope you enjoy!**

_Previously on Cops and Robbers Don't Mix:_

_"Okay, let's do this!" Monroe tried to prepare himself for what he had to do next because he really did not want to do it. "Nick. Nick." As gently as he could he shook his half-conscious friend._

_"Hmm?" Nick muttered trying to open his half-closed eyes. It was becoming harder and harder to stay in the world of the living. "I'll expl'n la'er." _Right now I need a nap. _Eventually, his exhaustion won out and his weakened body succumbed to the darkness. He wasn't aware that Monroe was desperately trying to keep him awake by slapping the living hell out of him._

_Monroe would soon find out that he wouldn't get that explanation any time soon. There was still more to this than meets the eye._

**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG G**

_"I'm sorry. We tried everything we could, but he just wasn't strong enough."_

Those words were running through his head. They simply didn't disappear even though he tried extremely hard to get rid of them.

He entered a room that had many windows plastering the walls, covering them were white curtains that could easily be closed when the patient wanted privacy. The bed was sandwiched between many cabinets, drawers, monitors, and plenty of medical equipment to start your own medical practice.

He sat there admiring the high ceiling, the worn tiled floors. He pretty much admired every thing in the room just so he wouldn't have to see his friend, motionless, lifeless, and very much dead, lying in that bed. But he knew that he would have to look sooner or later.

The sheet that lay over the body was speckled with droplets of blood; he thought he was going to be sick. _That's his blood. The blood that was suppose to keep him alive. _

A quiet nurse walked in then. "Do you need to sit down for this? You're looking a little green, my friend."

It took him a moment to realize she had spoken. "Oh...Uh...No, I'm fine." He was definitely not fine.

"Okay. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

The nurse pulled back the sheet to expose the body. That was him alright. He leaned in closer to get a better look. There was something odd about him. Something was protruding from his chest, but he couldn't tell what it was.

He turned an even darker shade of green when he recognized the object. It was his friend's badge. His friend's badge was entwined in his heart and God knows what else.

"What happened to him? That wasn't there when we got here! What did you do to him?" He turned to the nurse, only to find that she had disappeared. Where had she gone in this short time period?

He turned to walk out the door to find someone and grill them for answers, but before he even got to the door, pain spiked in his back and he cried out. He fell to the floor catching himself with his hands and knees. He glanced behind him and saw the nurse that had unveiled his friend only seconds ago.

"He's dead, now it's your turn."

He looked up at her, mouth agape. He physically and mentally prepared himself for what was about to occur.

"Goodbye now," she said with venom in her voice and plunged the scalpel into his heart...

**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG G**

His eyes flashed opened and he shot up out of the chair he was occupying. He paced the room trying to calm himself down and catch his erratic breath.

_"It was just a dream. It was just a dream," _he told himself over and over again.

When he was calm enough to sit back down, he glanced at the hospital bed. Nick was still unconscious. He had been for two days now. Monroe was going insane with worry. If anyone asked if he was worried he would simply say:

"I'm not worried, just a little apprehensive of the outcome."

He scooted his chair closer to the bed and took Nick's hand. "Come on man, you have to wake up now. I don't want to have to bury you in the ground."

Monroe thought about this for a moment. "I guess I could just get rid of your body by tossing it in the lake. But wait," he scratched his chin, "that may be difficult. It's kind of hard to get rid of a detective's body in the middle of Portland, Oregon."

Monroe couldn't believe what he was thinking. If he had to guess, he would think that it was due to the stress of the last few days. Maybe it was because he hadn't done his pilates that morning or maybe it was just him being his humorous self. He seriously needed to get out of this hospital.

"Dude, I'm already coming up with ideas to get rid of you. I haven't even seen you awake and aware for over forty-eight hours!" He chuckled lightly at this. He honestly didn't know what he was going to do if Nick didn't make it.

He heard the sliding glass door open. He didn't even look behind him. He knew it was one of the many night nurses that came and went periodically every night that Nick had been here. He just kept staring at Nick's pale face and slightly red cheeks. He had spiked a fever early that morning. It wasn't dangerously high, but the doctor see it need be to keep an eye on it in case it does rise to a fatal temperture.

The nurse's eyes were running over the many monitors that kept tabs on the Grimm. She had been in here slightly longer than other nurses had, so Monroe thought something was wrong.

"Is he alright?"

All Monroe could see was her long red hair that covered her neck and flowed past her shoulders. She was wearing a white lab coat that was surprisingly clean considering she works in a hospital with blood and other bodily fluids. Monroe could never figure out why they always stayed clean. They probably had a supply of them in the back room or something. She also had on black leggings that accentuated her long legs and Monroe couldn't help his male genes and stared at them for a little longer than he probably needed to.

She glanced over and smiled at him.

Monroe visibly paled.

He was certain he hadn't seen her until now, but...

It was the nurse from his dream...

**2 A/N: So, review? Yes, no, maybe so? Sorry to those of you who were looking for the chapter where I explain who beat Nick up and why, I still don't know either! I guess we'll both know eventually! Please let me know what you think! Thanks again to those who have reviewed, followed, favorited, and told their friends this story was up. I appreciate it! Love you guys!**


	3. The Awakening

**A/N: Well, it's been a little while, right? Sorry about the delay. I had a big performance with my dance company that took up most of my time last week. I planned on updating yesterday, but I had my wisdom teeth extracted and it really hit me hard last night.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. I don't know if I really liked how it turned out. I always do this. Start out really strong on a story and then the middle chapters are bad and then the end's just amazing. Tell me what you think. After I post, I always think of questions like, "How did he get there?", "Why is he there?" But, no matter how much we want to, we can't always be perfect, right? Enjoy!**

_Previously on Cops and Robbers Don't Mix:_

_She glanced over and smiled at him. _

_Monroe visibly paled._

_He was certain he hadn't seen her until now, but..._

_It was the nurse from his dream..._

Nick felt like he was wading through water. The water was holding him back and no matter how hard he tried to speed up, he couldn't. He had forgotten why he was in the water in the first place. He remembered being at the precinct, going over the case he and Hank had been assigned. It involved a robbery of a department store with cameras under repair according to the manager. The only thing they had to go off of was the witnesses statements, which was hard because no two witnesses saw the same thing.

The water was now increasing in depth and speed. Nick hadn't realized how cold the water was until now. He began shivering and he became frozen where he was standing. For the life of him, he couldn't get his feet to coperate. The water was now up to his stomach and he still couldn't move. The only thing he could move was his arms, but with the wild thrashing he took up a few moments ago, he was surprised that he hadn't drowned yet. _Thrashing will get you no where, Nick,_ the rational part of his brain told him.

The thick water was now engulfing his being, but he couldn't escape it. It was surrounding his neck and was escalating to his nose and mouth. All he could do was spit and splutter out the water when it filled his nostrils. He knew that this was it. The end. _Ironic, isn't it? You used 'the end.'_ He could not figure out why his brain was telling him stupid, useless information instead of helping him get out of this mess.

The water splashed over his head making him sink further to the bottom of the pool. He could feel someone holding him under. When he emerged after a few minutes too long, he could barely breathe. He was frantically trying to locate the person that had held him down. He thrashed again trying to free himself from the waves, but it just wasn't working. "Help..." is all he managed before a strong hand fell on his shoulder. It began gently shaking him.

_"Nick? Nick? Come on buddy, just breathe. In n' out, in n' out. Match my breathing."_

Nick heard other sounds. A beeping that made his head hurt and footsteps that thudded on the ground. He heard other voices, but was too focused on the one telling him to breath. He knew this person. He knew them, but couldn't place who it was.

_"Can you open your eyes for me?"_

Nick took in a shaky breath and on the exhale, slowly opened his eyes. He was met with a blurry outline of a face.

"Nick, you good?"

Nick shook his head to try and clear the fogginess, but that was a big mistake. The instint he did that, dizziness swarmed him and he squeezed his eyes shut once again. The hand that had been on his shoulder returned again.

Nick remained with his eyes closed for a few seconds more and then opened them again. He was rewarded with a clearer picture. He could now make out four people next to him. Two he did not know and two he did. Hank was standing in the corner, arms folded over his chest, looking worried and like he wanted to punch someone at the same time. Monroe was the one gently grabbing his shoulder. He looked exhausted, but at the same time relieved and ready to jump into action if anything should happen.

"Where...?" Nick shakily asked.

"You're in the hospital. You had a lot of injuries, but we were able to fix all of them," the figure on the opposite side of him said. "I will go over all of them with you in a moment. I am Dr. Hanson and I have been your doctor since you were brought in. First off, how are you feeling?"

Nick thought about this. Other than the throbbing in his head, most likely due to the headache that was brought on from the dizziness, he felt completely numb, but in a good way.

"I...I'm pretty numb," Nick responded, looking at the doctor for the first time.

"Good, that means the pain medication and the slight sedative we gave you is working. You weren't able to get comfortable and became aggitated a little while ago. We gave you something to make you relax. Are you feeling nauseous or dizzy at all?"

"A little dizzy."

"That's to be expected. If you start becoming nauseous, please let us know so we can get you something for it. Let me grab a few things and I will be right back to explain your treatment and care, okay? In the meantime, don't try to get out of this bed. Even though you feel good, the medication will wear off soon and I don't want you re-injuring yourself. I can already tell that I will have to say that more than once." The doctor smiled and turned to leave.

"Okay, thanks."

Nick watched the doctor and the other person he assumed to be a nurse walk out of his room.

"Jeez dude. You had us all worried. You've been out for two and half days. This is the most I have ever seen you sleep," Monroe said. He was exhausted, but relieved that Nick was awake.

He needed to talk to Nick about what happened, but he would let Nick rest up a little bit more. He was so confused about how Nick got hurt and who had done it and now he had to figure out who the hell that nurse was and why he had dreamt about her. Part of him didn't want to tell Nick to protect him incase it was something dangerous. Monroe knew that he would eventually have to tell him, but first he needed Nick's story to see if any of his problems went along with Nick's.

"Sorry... How did I get here?" Nick questioned pushing himself into a sitting position. He hissed when his ribs twinged in pain and his right arm, strapped in a sling and secured against his body, slightly bumped the bed's railing. The doctor was right. Even though the medication took a lot of the pain away, he could feel some of it coming back.

Monroe helped Nick sit up the rest of the way, even if he objected to the idea of Nick sitting up.

"I carried you here," Monroe said trying to lighten the mood. He knew Nick would react to this.

"What? You carried me here? Did anyone see?" Nick suddenly became very self-conscious and Monroe noticed.

"Dude, I was kidding. I came over to your house when you asked me to help you on your case, but when I got there you were on the verge of passing out. I called an ambulance and they brought you here. Oh and I owe you a new door. Sorry."

"What?"

"The big bad wolf blew your door down," Hank chuckled coming up on the other side of the bed. "Too bad I wasn't there to see it." Hank grinned when Nick glared at him.

"Hey," Hank threw up his arms in surrender, "I'm not the one who did it. You should be looking at him like that."

Monroe just stood there with a smirk while Nick rolled his eyes.

It was good that Nick was awake and gently bantering with his partner like old times, but Monroe hadn't a clue what was coming next. He looked out the window of the hospital room. He felt like someone was watching them.

"You okay, Monroe?" Nick asked when Monroe turned back to face the two detectives who had finished playfully insulting each other. "Yeah...Yeah I'm fine."

No, he wasn't fine.

And the figure currently staring through the window could tell none of the men in room G13 were alright.

He smiled sadistically.

_They won't know what hit 'em, _the man thought as he stood up from his seat and walked towards the exit to the parking garage.

_**2A/N:**_** What did you think? Should I continue this story or move on to another story? Should I leave this fandom all together? Am I at least giving this show some justice? Am I doing good, excellent, amazing? Let me know! Hope you guys still like it. Can't wait for March 8th!**


	4. The (Fake) Nurse

_A/N: Hello. Worked really hard to get this up. Hope you enjoy. Thanks to Nahaliel for the aid and encouragement! _

_Previously on Cops and Robbers Don't Mix: _

_And the figure staring through the window could tell none of the men in room G013 were alright. _

_He smiled sadistically._

_They won't know what hit 'em, the man thought as he stood up from his seat and walked towards the exit._

* * *

Monroe finally looked at Nick; really looked. What he found was not pleasing. He had been overwhelmed with the outcome of Nick's situation, he hadn't really taken in Nick's appearance. Nick looked exhausted. His face pale, a thin sheen of sweat gathered on his forehead and upper lip and his cheeks slightly flushed; Monroe could tell he wanted to just pass out, but he was fighting it for a reason known.

Nick was still sitting up, but he was more or less slumped against the pillows behind him, his breathing ragged. His posture was stiff and his teeth clenched and lips taut. His chest was bare; there were bandages covering his torso that extended to his shoulder. Monroe suspected that underneath those bandages, there were even more due to the large lesion across it. The sling holding the limb hung loosely around his neck; his arm lying limply in it, laid across his lap. His lax fingers the only thing on his body not tense with pain. Blankets were pushed aside, exposing his ankle wrapped securely in an ACE bandage and elevated with an extra pillow. That was going to suck to walk on, Monroe thought.

Overall, Monroe was perplexed as to what or who could have caused this much damage. He didn't think that one human being could cause it. Perhaps Wesen, but what kind? It seemed like all he could come up with were more questions and not answers. He was sure Nick could answer them, but it kind of seemed selfish to ask him now when he was so beaten and broken.

* * *

It was around 8:30 PM when the doctor came in to discuss Nick's injuries.

"Sorry, I got caught up with another patient. I have already kept you waiting enough,, so let's get on with it. You did quite the number on yourself. You had many lacerations and bruises, two cracked ribs, a sprained ankle, and to go along with it, a moderate concussion."

Monroe and Hank visibly winced at the reading of Nick's injuries. They both stole quick glances at Nick who did not seem phased by what the doctor was saying.

"You will be fine in time, but I am a bit concerned about your shoulder," he said motioning towards the injured limb. "It was badly dislocated and may take a while to heal due to a previous dislocation. Also, the cut along your collarbone", he gently dragged his pinkie finger across the wound, "had become slightly infected. We had to do some debridement to get all the small particles of dirt and bacteria out, but there is still a chance it will become worse. We put you on an antibiotic drip to prevent that from happening, so hopefully it won't cause any problems. We will keep it in a sling until further notice, so keep it immobilized. If we deem it necessary, we may have you do some physical therapy, but I am confident that it will heal with rest and time. Let's not go falling down any more stairs anytime soon, alright? Any questions?"

Nick had remained stoic throughout the doctors explanation. He was surprised that Monroe could only come up with falling down the stairs as an excuse to all the injuries. He was even more surprised the doctor didn't question it.

"When can I go home?"

Of course he would ask that. Hank and Monroe rolled their eyes.

"Dude, you've been unconscious for almost three days," Monroe replied exasperated.

"You aren't going anywhere. You aren't to leave this place unless you are released by the Doc. If I have to handcuff you to the bed, I will," Hank said forcefully yet he smirked, playfully tugging at his belt where he kept his handcuffs. He doubted Nick would even get as far as the doorway without passing out.

"I agree with your friends completely. Let's just take it one day at a time. We will reases later. Can I get you anything?"

"No...No, I'm good. Thank you," Nick said between a small yawn.

"Try and get some sleep. If you do need anything during the night, the call button is right behind you. I will check on you later," Dr. Hanson said with a smile. "Good night."

As the doctor left the room, Monroe and Hank looked over at Nick. His eyes were tightly closed.

"You okay?" Hank asked.

Nick was not, but he wasn't going to admit that. His head was pounding, his arm throbbed and it hurt to breathe.

Monroe pushed the call button.

"Peachy." Nick didn't open his eyes. He was dizzy and tired and he hated it.

A few minutes later a male nurse walked in and asked what they needed.

"Can he get something for his pain?" Monroe asked. The nurse nodded and walked back into the hall.

* * *

The fake nurse grinned. This was the perfect time to get rid of the Grimm once and for all. He had watched them all night before he exited the hospital to get the required materials to kill the Grimm. Now he could slip it in his medication without detection.

Good thing the Grimm wasn't paying attention to him or he may have recognized him as the man who attacked him at his house three days prior...

**A/N: Just to clarify, the nurse is the man who was watching them in the previous chapter. I just couldn't find a way to write it to make it make sense. Hope you weren't too confused (even with this clarification as well)! **

**Please review before you go! Let me know what you think and what you would like to see in the next chapters. I need some ideas. **

**Love you guys! Thanks for all the favorites, alerts and reviews! Hope I didn't disappoint. I promise in the next few chapters I will answer the many questions I keep adding to the story! Just be patient please...;)**


	5. The Poison

**A/N: So I guess I will probably update once every month as that is what I have been doing. It seems to work. **

**I have mixed feelings about this one. Some parts I am extremely proud of and others...not so much. Hope you still like it!**

**To LittleBounce: Thank you for the amazing idea! If it weren't for you, I would still be on the drawing board. :) I am glad to be on this website. I get to meet all you wonderful readers and writers! **

_Previously on Cops and Robbers Don't Mix:_

_The fake nurse grinned. This was the perfect time to get rid of the Grimm once and for all. He had been watching them all night before he exited the hospital to get the required materials to kill the Grimm. Now he could slip it in his medication without detection._

_Good thing the Grimm wasn't paying attention to him or he may have recognized him as the man who attacked him at his house three days prior..._

* * *

_"Hank we need you down here. Our homicide has a new lead. How's Nick doing?"_

"Finally. I'll be there in twenty. He's alright, considering the long flight of stairs he fell down. Already asking to leave."

_"That's Nick for ya. See you when you get down here."_

The line went dead and Hank glanced at his partner. No way in hell did he believe that he fell down the stairs. A) The injuries didn't add up and B) Nick wasn't that clumsy. This was something much bigger.

He remembered his conversation with Monroe three days ago. The man had called him and told him Nick had fallen down the stairs, but Hank, being the trained detective he was, _detected_ some hesitation when Monroe had said he "fell down the stairs."

"That was Wu. They need me down at the precinct," Hank said more towards Monroe. If Nick was asleep, he didn't want to wake him as he hadn't opened his eyes since the doctor had left.

He was surprised when Nick responded quietly (a little breathlessly in Hank's book).

"Did you find something?"

"Yeah. Wu found a new lead. We are going to check it out when I get there."

Nick made a move to get up.

"Woah. What do you think you're doing?" Monroe asked gently pushing Nick back against the pillows.

"I'm coming with. I...I need to..." Nick struggled weakly against Monroe, trying to remove himself from the strong hand holding him down. He needed to tell them what happened. He was sure that the attack at his house was somehow related to this case. Even though some of the details of the attack were fuzzy, he remembered that one man was Wesen. The other he was unsure of. His head hurt.

"Partner, no offense, but you look like crap," Hank said taking in his waxy pallor. "You aren't going anywhere."

"Hank, you don't understand-"

"I don't want to hear it. You are staying here until the doctor gives the okay that you can leave. Understood?"

Nick considered arguing his point, but thought better of the idea when he saw both the Blutbad and the detective glaring back at him. He stopped his unsuccessful attempts of escaping and sighed an "Understood."

Hank turned to Monroe. "Don't let him leave." With one last look at Nick Hank left the room.

* * *

Nick closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rid himself of the pain in his head...well the pain everywhere.

Monroe noticed this. _Where the hell is that nurse? It's been like fifteen minutes!_

As if on cue, the male nurse, Pete as it read on his name tag, entered.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step into the hall for a moment while I assess the patient and give him his medication."

Monroe was a little hesitant to leave Nick alone. He knew that whoever attacked him was still out there, but if they really wanted him dead, why hadn't they just done it at the house? Yeah, Nick was strong, but whatever left him this injured could most likely kill him.

"Alright," the Blutbad said tentatively.

He stole a quick glance at Nick who seemed unaware of what was going on.

_He must really be hurting if he isn't paying attention. He's paid to observe situations, after all. _Monroe thought. He grabbed his jacket and stepped out into the hallway. He decided that now would be as good a time as ever to get some coffee. He knew that it was going to be a long night. He would later learn that was a big mistake.

* * *

Pete was surprised at how easy it was to get the Blutbad out of the room. Genevieve would be so proud of him. He shut the door quietly. If the Grimm was asleep, it would make this a lot easier.

He made his way over to the bed and pulled a syringe filled with a green liquid out of his pocket. As he was about to insert the needle, a pale hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He looked up and was met with the Grimm's eyes. He pulled his hand out of the weak grip easily and held his arm down. If only it were that easy.

Nick sat up, pulled the sling off his arm ignoring the agony racing up and down it, and struggled against his attacker. The same attacker he had met three days ago at his house.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance!" Pete said breaking free of Nick's hold and backing away from the bed.

"Then why didn't you?" Nick asked.

Nick swung his legs over the edge of the bed and proceeded to jump off. His head spun and as soon as his feet touched the ground, his ankle and knees buckled due to the weight. He stumbled towards his assailant, bent over at the waist, trying but failing to straighten himself out and regain his balance. He held out his hand, trying to find something he could lean on, while his injured one was uselessly wrapped around his torso.

Pete took this as an advantage and wrapped both arms around the Grimm and managed to tackle him to the ground. The detective hit the ground with an oof, momentarily stunned, but coming back to himself quickly.

With a renewed amount of energy, the Grimm tried desperately to get the man off of him, but in his still weakened state all he could do was throw kicks and punches he hoped would hit his target.

Pete easily deflected the rest of the futile attempts and stabbed the needle into the Grimm's neck and pushed most of the liquid into his bloodstream. But before he could inject the rest, he heard voices close to the door. He quickly took the syringe out and put it in his pocket. He looked at Nick and snickered at the sight.

Nick was holding his neck where the injection site was, blinking repeatedly, breathing ragged, and trembling with the new foreign substance attacking his body.

Pete left quickly and quietly, not looking behind him when he exited into the hall.

* * *

Inside the room, Nick could feel the substance coursing through his veins, burning his insides with a vengeance. He suddenly felt like the room was suffocating him; the walls closing in on him. He couldn't breathe, the room was spinning out of control, and white-hot pain was squeezing the life out of him. He tried to call for help, but he could only gasp when he felt even more pain surrounding him, threatening to tear him in half.

He was aware of someone kneeling next to him, but who, he was unsure. His muddled brain supplied the image of Pete coming to finish what he had started. He tried to scoot away, but was paralyzed with the pain.

He could hear someone screaming in the distance, but soon realized it was himself. No matter how hard he tried to get away from the snake of pain and agony twisting around him, he couldn't as it seemed to inflame his nerve endings even more.

He took one last wheeze of breath and shut his eyes, hoping he wasn't going to die, but knowing he surely was close to death's door. The darkness came and he welcomed it this time with open arms.

**2 A/N: Thanks for reading this all the way through. Tell me what you think. Thanks to all those who favorited and followed this story and thank you to those who have followed and favorited me. It really makes me smile, so keep it up!**

**-S.A.N.e-but-inS.A.N.e-**


	6. The Blutbad

**A/N: Sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Many things happened. But, it is summer break now! That might mean an update every few weeks, perhaps… **

**Emilly191xx: Your review made me get off my lazy butt and start writing this chapter. Thanks for taking the time to review! **

**New ideas are greatly appreciated.A little shorter chapter this time, but the next ones will be longer.  
**

**Enjoy!**

_Previously on Cops and Robbers Don't Mix:_

_He could hear someone screaming in the distance, but soon realized it was himself. No matter how hard he tried to get away from the snake of pain and agony twisting around him, he couldn't as it seemed to inflame his nerve endings even more._

_He took one last wheeze of breath and shut his eyes, hoping he wasn't going to die, but knowing he surely was close to death's door. The darkness came and he welcomed it this time with open arms._

* * *

"Thanks," Monroe said to the young cashier in the hospital cafeteria, taking his scalding coffee very cautiously. He sipped at it tentatively and headed towards Nick's room.

When he was a little more than half way there, he saw the nurse walk out of the room.

What he heard next was not a pleasant sound and would most likely haunt his dreams for the next few weeks.

He ran the rest of the way to the door, not caring that he was spilling coffee everywhere; his only intent was to get to Nick, who was currently screaming in agony.

He looked through the doorway and almost lost his lunch.

Nick was squirming on the ground, clutching his neck, and surely torturing his vocal chords.

Monroe rushed to his side and hastily dropped to his knees. As soon as he did though, he got a whiff of something extremely potent. Instantly he knew what it was.

_Poison._

But as to what kind, he did not know.

"Nick! Nick, can you hear me?" Monroe desperately tried to get Nick to answer him and tell him he was fine, but of course Nick never did anything half-assed. He reached out to touch the Grimm, but Nick flinched and tried to scoot away. The sight pulled at his heart-strings. _He probably thinks it's his attacker,_ Monroe's rational side reasoned. _Good thing his attacker isn't here or I would be _attacking _him, _the other side of him thought.

Nick's eyes suddenly slid closed and Monroe shook him, trying unsuccessfully to rouse the younger man. He then realized that no medical personnel were coming to the rescue. _What the hell- _That's right, Nick unattached himself from the heart monitor. _They should really have alarms when people like -_he wasn't going to name names but-_**Nick**__ are in the hospital. _

"I need help in here!" Monroe yelled as loud as he could. He could have pushed the call button but he didn't want to leave Nick's side.

A few seconds later, a doctor and two nurses ran in, stopped and assessed the scene for a few moments before quickly scampering around to try and get Nick stable.

Monroe helped the nurses and doctor get the now unconscious Nick back up on the bed to better assess his condition.

"Thank you for your help, but we need you to go out into the hall so we can evaluate him," one of the nurses said ushering him out of the room.

* * *

Once out in the hall, Monroe sunk into one of the chairs aligning the walls. He took a deep breath.

This was all his fault. He should have never left him alone. If he was there he could have stopped this guy. He could have prevented Nick's pain and suffering.

_Stupid Grimm, _Monroe thought, _is it everyone's objective to kill you?_

He couldn't believe his simple trip for coffee turned into such a catastrophe.

* * *

Once out in the parking garage, Pete sprinted towards his car. In the driver's seat sat a beautiful ginger. He jumped into the passenger seat and looked over at the woman.

"Is the target down?" she asked almost scared of the answer.

"Of course it is. I'm not as incompetent as you think I am, Genevieve."

"I'll believe that when I see it." She put the keys in the ignition, started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.

Pete grumbled some profanities and buckled his seat belt.

He knew that the Grimm was down and he knew that the consequences of the poison would greatly impact the Grimm and those he cared about…

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think! Again, not a doctor! Half the time I don't know what I'm talking about while reciting medical jargon, but who does? Duh, Doctors Do. Love you guys!**


	7. The Symptoms

_**Hello there! **_

_**You know how I said that I would have more time during the summer to update, well, I lied. I am taking an online course for school so I can get ahead (an overachiever here) and I didn't realize how much of my time would go towards that, so blame my overachiever-er-ness… yeah not a word no matter how much I wish it was. I always seem to make new words; rememorable is probably my most extravagant. **_

_**I worked on this all day, seriously…Okay, got distracted…baked some cookies, danced, played Bubble Shooter and Candy Crush Saga, fed my dog…**_

_**Anyway, just wanted to point this out, it's exactly a month since I update last and no I didn't do it on purpose!**_

_**Thoroughly read before each review! (Get it: Thoroughly shake before each use!... Sorry, sleep deprived.) **_

_**Enjoy!It's a longer chapter, almost as long as the very first chapter!  
**_

_**I do not own Grimm and any characters associated with the show. I just like to beat fictional characters up for my enjoyment-...I mean I like writing!**_

* * *

_Previously on Cops and Robbers Don't Mix:_

_Once out in the parking garage, Pete sprinted towards his car. In the driver's seat sat a beautiful ginger. He jumped into the passenger seat and looked over at the woman._

_"Is the target down?" she asked almost scared of the answer._

_"Of course it is. I'm not as incompetent as you think I am, Genevieve."_

_"I'll believe that when I see it." She put the keys in the ignition, started the car and pulled out of the parking spot._

_Pete grumbled some profanities and buckled his seat belt._

_He knew that the Grimm was down and he knew that the consequences of the poison would greatly impact the Grimm and those he cared about…_

* * *

Uniforms were stationed throughout the hospital, scoping out potential threats. Two were guarding room G13, thoroughly checking anyone who deemed it necessary to enter Burkhardt's room. They weren't taking any more chances. Why they didn't post someone at his door right when he got here, the world may never know.

Hank was _pissed off._ And worried, but he didn't show it, or at least didn't think he showed it. The whole hospital practically knew he was, but _hell _his partner and _friend_ had just been poisoned. He had a right to be pissed off and…_not_ worried.

Monroe had made a frantic phone call to Hank after he was ushered from Nick's room. Hank was surprised to hear how freaked out Monroe was; it was definitely different from his usual freak out moments where he was more reserved in his panic rather than desperate and close to letting his Wesen side take over in his stress.

After that, Hank stormed out of the precinct, broke about every traffic regulation (_hey, cops are at the top of the law's food chain, so deal with it_)to get to the hospital because if Monroe let go of his reserved side, it was bad, really bad and he couldn't have some sort of _Blutbad-freak-out _in the middle of the hospital. No way in hell would he be able to keep that on the DL.

* * *

When he reached the hospital, he had haphazardly parked in an empty parking space and practically sprinted to the entrance.

Now, he was showing the two police men in front of Nick's door his credentials, tapping his foot impatiently. He _did not _have time for this; his partner could be dying for all he knew. He hadn't pressed Monroe for details, knowing Monroe might freak out even more.

"Can we hurry this up?" Hank said while one of the men was patting him down.

"Sorry, procedure…" He was not sorry at all and _screw _procedure. He was a freakin' cop!

"Well I'm pretty sure I wouldn't hurt my _partner_." Perhaps if he tried this tactic they would realize who he was and let him in already.

No such luck. It seemed he was going even slower.

Reggie stood up from searching Hank and said, "You can go in now," with a sarcastic smile.

The other cop, Marc, who had a striking resemblance to Mark Wahlberg, slapped his partner on the shoulder.

"Cut him some slack, Reg. His partner was just poisoned." Mark looked over at Hank and sent him a silent apology.

_At least someone has manners. _

* * *

Hank gripped the door handle hesitantly, not exactly sure what to expect. He pushed it opened and caught sight of Monroe sitting in the corner of the room, elbows on knees, rotating between wringing his hands together and running them through his disheveled hair. He looked a wreck, but not like he was going to woge.

Then he looked over at the bed in the middle of the room. Nick was propped up on pillows, a nasal cannula snaking up to his face, wrapped around his ears, plugged in his nostrils, and secured under his chin. Even more tubes and wires were hooked up to him.

He was even paler than he was when Hank had left; he looked _weak, _like a simple breeze could kill him.

He could tell he was hurting; pain lines were etched near his mouth and eyes, tension filling his shoulders and neck. Sweat was cascading down his forehead; machines were beeping and the blood pressure cuff was whooshing and Hank briefly wondered how anyone could sleep with how loud the noise was.

"They still don't know what he was injected with," Monroe said quietly.

Hank hadn't realized he was still standing with his hand clasped around the doorknob, in the middle of the doorway with his mouth slightly agape, staring. He turned his head towards Monroe, leaving his eyes on the sickly figure for a few more seconds before giving Monroe his full attention and closing the door.

"Do they have _any_ idea?"

"They think it may be oleander poisoning, but-"

"You mean a _flower _did _this_?" Hank interrupted.

"-they gave him the antidote, but it's not working; there may be something mixed in with it, but they don't know. They are treating the symptoms as they come. We need to find this guy; they can't treat him if they don't know what else was in it. Hell, they weren't even going to give him the antidote for fear of making him…worse," Monroe finished as though he hadn't been interrupted, huffing a breath through his mouth.

"Jesus Christ…" Hank sighed, "What symptoms is he showing?" He feared the answer.

"So far just nausea, dizziness, stomach pain; he's been unconscious for a while now. Had to put him on oxygen, he couldn't take deep enough breathes due to pain."

"How did they come up with oleander?"

"Said something about having a case a couple months ago, presented the same symptoms. I don't really know, I was more concerned with Nick and him writhing in pain than how they came up with their diagnosis," Monroe replied practically spewing venom across the room. He was stressed.

Hank decided that he would never piss Monroe off.

Monroe's wolf side was raging, leaving him seeing and thinking red.

* * *

Almost as though Nick was listening to their conversation, he began to stir. He groaned in discomfort, shifting in the bed.

"Nick? Can you open your eyes for us?" Hank moved closer to Nick's side.

Another moan came from the dark-haired detective.

"Come on Nick." Both Hank and Monroe were anxious and…_not _worried, so don't accuse them of it.

Fluttering of eyelids, a deep breath, (or as deep a breath he could manage with two cracked ribs. They had to remember that he was hurt before this whole…_ordeal._) and Nick came around, slowly but surely.

"H-hey," Nick shakily said taking another wheeze of breath and tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace.

"Hey yourself," the _Blutbad _smirked slightly, as suddenly as the venom in his voice was there, it was gone, as well as the red. (_For some reason it went away when Nick was around which was weird considering he was a Grimm._) It wasn't Nick's fault that he was hurt_ and_ poisoned. "How are you feeling?"

Nick looked at him like he was stupid.

_Don't piss Nick off either, _Hank mentally added to his list.

"It's a legitimate question."

Nick closed his eyes, trying to ride out the nausea and how his stomach was practically on fire; his injuries throbbing with a vengeance every time he breathed; the oxygen helped him steady his shallow respiration, but could only do so much.

He felt awful. He felt _sick. _He was going to puke.

"Good," he answered instead.

Hank rolled his eyes at the same time Monroe scoffed.

"I don't think I can believe that," the dark-skinned detective smirked.

"Yeah…" Nick shut his eyes again against the nausea.

Sensing what was coming next due to the green tinge to his partner's skin, Hank grabbed a nearby basin and gently shoved it underneath Nick's chin just in time for Nick to start heaving and gagging, bringing up what he had consumed a few days earlier, which was not that much and left him sputtering up bile and what was that?

_Blood..._

Nick was coughing up _blood. _

Nick spit into the basin and collapsed against the pillows, once again drained of all energy. He hadn't noticed the blood.

* * *

He relished in the oxygen, once again closing his eyes and simply breathing.

"Nick?"

"Mmm..."

He felt like he was going to puke again if he said anything. His head ached and his heart was pounding painfully against his ribcage.

The beeping in the room suddenly got very loud and Nick wanted someone to hit the snooze button.

"It's…it's not 'ven mor'ing yet…"

There's the disorientation.

Nurses and doctors flew into the room as the heart monitor, with it's insistant, shrill beeping, got even louder.

Without warning, Nick rolled over to the side of the bed and vomited again with such force; both Monroe and Hank thought he was going to fall off the bed.

"He's tachicardic," one of the nurses shouted towards the doctor.

Hank and Monroe were frozen, standing in the way looking like gaping fish.

"Get those paddles ready. We can't risk giving him anything that could interfere with the poison running rampant through his blood stream," Dr. Hanson said pulling on rubber gloves.

Nick rolled to his back, his breathing harsh and eyes clenched tightly. More sweat poured off him and he could feel his heart doing pirouettes and leaps, intent on working so hard that he thought it was going to _leap _right out of his chest.

The nurse grabbed the paddles while another, again, ushered Monroe, with a complaining Hank following close behind, out the door with a promise to come get them when Nick was stable.

"What the hell is going on?" Hank shouted and turned to Monroe.

"Hank, I need to tell you something." Monroe clasped a hand on Hank's shoulder and led him to the waiting room near the front entrance of the Intensive Care Unit.

_It was time to tell someone about the red-headed nurse and how he thought it was related to Nick's problems. _

* * *

_**Next time on Cops and Robbers Don't Mix:**_

_**Monroe will have a talk with Hank, you'll finally get to hear what happened with Nick, more about the poison, AND what these weird dreams are about because remember both Nick and Monroe have had one. Perhaps Hank will be the next…**_

* * *

_**How was it? Please review! My medical credentials were ruined when I watched an episode of ER trying to find correct usage of medical jargon, jumped out of a helicopter, surfed on a cloud, met Zeus the lightning God, stole one of his lightning rods, and landed on the peak of Mount Everest, therefore, I'm not a doctor anymore (yet). All of this stuff was researched this time, but I suggest not listening to it. It could still be slightly off (try completely off). If you think you have been poisoned, please contact Poison Control or go to the Emergency Room. And may I ask… why the hell are you even reading fan fiction if you've been poisoned? **_

_**Please review, they make me feel giddy inside!**_

_**Thanks to all those who have reviewed, favorited, followed this story; it means a lot! And to those who are following or favoriting me as an author, you are why I get up in the morning and write!**_

_**Hope to have the next chapter up soon!**_

_**~S.A.N.e-but-inS.A.N.e~ **_

_***Do you hear the people sing, singing the songs of angry men.* Been in my head all...day...long.**_


	8. The Talk(s)

**A/N: Wow, chapter eight! Can't believe I made it this far without embarrassing myself. Thank you to all those who review when I update; you guys keep me going! As to those who follow and favorite, it means a lot to me. To those guest reviewers I can't thank personally, thank you for sticking with this story! All of the fans of this story are amazing and I hope you still enjoy coming back each and every time I post! I love you guys!**

**So without further ado, the long anticipated chapter: **

_Previously on Cops and Robbers Don't Mix:_

_Nick rolled to his back, his breathing harsh and eyes clenched tightly. More sweat poured off him and he could feel his heart doing pirouettes and leaps, intent on working so hard that he thought it was going to __leap __right out of his chest. _

_The nurse grabbed the paddles while another, again, ushered Monroe, with a complaining Hank following close behind, out the door with a promise to come get them when Nick was stable._

_"What the hell is going on?" Hank shouted and turned to Monroe._

_"Hank, I need to tell you something." Monroe clasped a hand on Hank's shoulder and led him to the waiting room near the front entrance of the Intensive Care Unit._

_It was time to tell someone about the red-headed nurse and how he thought it was related to Nick's problems._

* * *

"What the hell is going on, Monroe?" Hank repeated for the umpteenth time.

"Nick didn't fall down the stairs…" Monroe began.

"No duh. Why don't you start telling me what I don't _already_ know," Hank said, the detective in him coming out, even though he felt like he wanted to scream and punch someone in the throat, preferably that someone who poisoned Nick.

"He called me late a coupla nights ago asking for help on one of your guys' cases. I went to his house and found him bloody and bruised, about to pass out in the middle of his living room, as you _already _know."(_Hank didn't miss the bite in his comment. Monroe was definitely stretched beyond his limit.) _

"He couldn't tell me what happened."

"After he was situated here, I fell asleep. . . I dreamed of a nurse. . ."

Hank raised an eyebrow at that.

"No! Not in that way. Jeez, what is our society coming to, nowadays?"

Hank just shook his head.

"Anyway, when I woke up (_Monroe thought it best to not share the exact details of the dream where Nick was... not with them and where he was attacked by a female nurse) _the same nurse was in the room. Same long red hair and everything."

"Are you sure you just hadn't seen her in the hallway before then?" Hank asked.

Monroe was feeling as though he was being interrogated.

"No. That was for sure the first time I had seen her."

"What did you do after you figured out it was the same girl?"

_Yep, definitely being interrogated now._

"I asked her to get a new nurse for Nick. She had been in the room longer than any other medical professional; I didn't feel comfortable with her being there."

"Did you see where she went?"

"Excuse me if I was a little preoccupied with Nick and all," the _Blutbad_ all but growled.

Hank had the decency to look mildly ashamed at that.

"I don't know if it has anything to do with Nick's predicament now, but I have a feeling it is," Monroe said. "I just want to find whoever did this to Nick, punch their lights out, and then hand them off to you so you can put them behind bars."

"Easy there, Tiger," Hank smirked at Monroe's conspicuous eye roll. At least he refrained from saying anything about a wolf. He was saving that one for later.

"Do you think it has something to do with Wesen?" Hank whispered, looking around him to see if anyone was listening in on their interrogation . . . er, conversation.

"Usually I can sense Wesen. I don't know though. Could be or they are just psychotic people trying to get back at Nick for putting them or family members behind bars because Nick sure does get a lot of _that._"

Hank didn't know what to think about all this. He was angry at Monroe for not sharing this beforehand, but then again, if Hank was placed in that situation and a civilian, he may be more concerned with his friend's health than alerting the police of a suspicious person. _Hell,_ even being a cop that would have been the last thing on his mind. And, it wasn't like you could call up the local police and tell them why you suspected this person of suspicious acts.

Hank could imagine this conversation and it ended somewhat like, _No; I am not a psychiatric patient._

He briefly wondered if Adalind was back in town. He wouldn't put her past poisoning Nick. She'd been there, done that.

"We need Nick to tell us what happened," Monroe stated after a few minutes of silence.

"Let's just hope he's coherent enough to remember," Detective Griffin bleakly said.

* * *

About a half hour later, Dr. Hanson came out to get them.

"How is he?"

"We need to figure out what kind of poison this is and fast. We can't keep guessing on whether the medications we give him are going to interfere or not. He is stable for now, but still critical; he is in quite an amount of pain, both from whatever the assailant gave him and his injuries. We are trying to make him as comfortable as possible, but I am afraid that if we don't get some sort of information or antidote, he won't make it through the day. (_It was like one A.M.)"_

Hank stiffened and Monroe inhaled loudly. _This couldn't be happening. _

"Can we see him?" Hank asked cautiously, almost afraid of what he was about to see.

"Yes, but I must warn you, your friend is very sick right now. Don't stress him out; a sudden change in blood pressure or heart beat could be fatal."

The doctor walked back up to the nurse's station and set down a thick chart, then motioned for Monroe and Hank to follow him back to Nick's room.

* * *

It felt like the first time Hank saw Nick after he was poisoned except worse. Monroe and Hank were more like gasping whales rather then gaping fish.

"Nurses will be in here periodically to assess and record his vitals. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to find a free nurse or myself. I will check in around six if anything doesn't need my immediate assistance."

Dr. Hanson looked at the grim faces of the two men.

"We are doing everything we can possibly do to keep your friend alive. Just keep up the hope."

He didn't add that he was currently grasping at straws as to what to do to keep Mr. Burkhardt alive.

* * *

Nick's face was a sickly grey with a tinge of rose around his cheeks; his fever was certainly rising now and definitely was a cause for concern. His eyes were squeezed shut, no doubt due to pain, illness, and queasiness. Both men wished Nick was asleep, even though they wanted to talk about what happened. They simply wanted him to escape his misery for a little while and didn't want to put him through the stress of trying to tell his tale, but their prayers were unanswered when Nick spoke.

"…D'you… miss me?" Nick grunted, smirking.

"Not even a little bit," Hank deadpanned.

"'m glad you can . . . still b-be kind at a time like. . . this," Nick vaguely gestured at himself and the room until his hand returned to gripping his stomach.

A few minutes slipped by in awkward silence until finally Monroe asked the much-needed question.

"Nick, we gotta know what happened to you."

The younger detective sighed. This was inevitable after all. They had the right to know, but truthfully Nick only remembered bits and pieces of what went on that night.

Nick opened his eyes and focused them on Monroe and then on Hank trying to get his bearings and his facts straight.

"I-I. . . only remember certain things. I. . . think I blacked out. I went outside to-to take the garbage out . . . an' someone attacked me from behind. We struggled and. . . I got a few good punches in before he . . . hit me over the head with something. That's when I th-think I blacked out."

Nick stopped talking and closed his eyes, taking deeper breaths to quell the pain and nausea. It seemed like he was doing that more often than not.

Monroe felt bad for making him talk knowing that it was difficult to do, but they desperately needed to know in order to find the people who did this to him.

The sick man sighed again and continued. "I woke up when he dislocated my shoulder. . . I remember him kicking me in the chest and then leaning down to whisper something in my ear. I—I don't know what he told me. . . I- can't remember that part. He smiled, patted my cheek and then he left. I think I passed out after that. When I woke again, I pulled myself up from the ground and limped back up to the house. . . I don't remember anything after that."

He coughed into his good fist and it seemed he sagged deeper into the mattress.

"'m sorry I can't 'member what he said. I keep tryin' and tryin', but it doesn't come . . . it jus' doesn't come . . . sorry. . ."

Nick's heart monitor increased its frequency a tad bit at that and he whimpered (_and if anyone asked it was not a girly whimper, it was a manly whimper; if you could even define a whimper as manly…) _closing his eyes again while a large tremor ran through his body.

"It's okay, Nick. Just relax, okay? Was there anything weird at all? Do you know if he was Wesen?"

It took a few moments for Nick to well up enough energy to answer.

"I had a weird dream," he mumbled. "Someone was holdin' me under water. He . . . might be Wesen. He was—was the one 'ho poisoned . . . me."

Hank and Monroe quickly glanced at each other.

"Did you see the person who held you under water?" Hank asked. He wouldn't say he was excited, but he was thrilled to have a bit more to go on and he could possibly put two and two together.

". . . No," he said groggily.

"Can you identify the guy who attacked you and poisoned you?"

"Mmhmm," Nick nodded. His stomach kept up its intense alternation of cramping and burning. He felt like he was going to vomit again. He didn't like this.

Hank waited for Nick to elaborate and tell him details of the criminal, but he didn't. Nick was out of it and wouldn't be thinking like a cop right now.

"What'd he look like, Nick?"

The response was Nick curling up as much as he could without detaching any of the wires he was connected to; a surprising feat that left both Monroe and Hank's heart strings pulling every which way. He gripped harder at his abdomen and groaned loudly, holding his breath as long as he could. On exhale, he coughed hard and groaned again.

Suddenly, his face went slack and his hand unclenched a little; he had finally passed out.

_Thank God. It was painful to watch him try to get those words out, _Monroe thought as he glanced at the monitors making sure his vitals were normal . . . well more normal then _on-the-edge-of-death _vitals. It made him sick to his stomach to think that he actully wanted him unconcious.

Hank swallowed hard and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Partner, you're going to be the death of me one day. _

"Well, we figured one thing out today. These dreams definitely have something to do with each other," Monroe said trying to uplift the spirit of the room. It fell flat on its ass.

* * *

Around 3:30am, Hank managed to coax Monroe into going home and taking a shower and grabbing some shut-eye (_if he could even with his best friend on the brink of. . . Don't jinx it). _He promised to call if anything changed.

Once the _Blutbad _left, Hank grabbed Nick's less injured arm currently not being supported by a sling.

"Paperwork; once you're out of this hell hole, you are helping me catch up on the stack I currently have piled on the corner of my desk. Least you can do after worrying the less clumsy one of us in this partnership."

Nick mumbled something that oddly enough sounded like "Zip-lining," and settled back down, merely breathing, but he couldn't be sure if that was what he wanted to communicate. He was after all exhausted, probably incoherent, but the pain kept him from getting that healing sleep he definitely needed.

Hank chuckled. Of course Nick wouldn't let him live that one down. How do you even hurt your ankle zip-lining? It was possible as Hank experienced it firsthand, but quite an odd injury.

* * *

Ten minutes later, a nurse walked in to record Nick's vitals (_while Nick went on breathing and _trying _to sleep)_ and Hank squeezed Nick's hand reassuringly and let go to give the nurse access. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until his vision was assaulted with a kaleidoscope of blacks and whites swirling nauseatingly. He wanted to go to sleep right there in the hospital chair and of course, punch a wall.

When the nurse decided her patient was doing rather well, considering, she left the room with a small sympathizing smile to Hank, and shut the door softly behind herself. Hank sank lower into his chair, clasped his fingers together, took one more look at Nick to make sure he was still there and _breathing_, and then leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

_The lights flickered on and off. A basement was illuminated in small bursts of light every few seconds; revealing a figure standing off in the far corner. He was was creepy and the scene belonged in a horror film.  
_

"_You want to know what I told your friend?"_

_Hank stepped from the shadows of the stairs. _

"_Who the hell are you? What do you want?"_

"_Oh, Detective Griffin all will be answered soon enough. Just be patient. Now, do you want to know what I told your _Grimm _or not?" _

"_What did you tell him?" Hank growled out._

"_Tick . . . Tock . . . Tick. . . Tock . . ." He said in a sing-song voice. Hank could see him waving his index finger back and forth with each word he said when the shadows temporarily dissipated.  
_

_Hank didn't know what to say. The room spun and the lights suddenly went out. He desperately tried to see in the dark, turning his head to look side to side and behind him. He couldn't _see _anything! He blindly started walking towards where the figure was standing. Yeah, it wasn't his smartest plan, but he was running out of options. He took one more cautious step forward and felt something scrape his side. _

_He jumped into action, instantly trying to quell the invisible attack. He needed to invest in some night vision goggles. _

_A sticky substance was plastered to his side. He tentatively placed two fingers into it and lifted his fingers to his nostrils. It smelled like some type of adhesive. _

_The lights flooded the basement burning his retinas, he felt like he was falling . . ._

* * *

. . . And the next thing Hank knew, he was waking up in Nick's hospital room, his heart racing.

_Now three dreams . . ._

What does it all mean?

What the hell was going on . . .

**A/N: Hope you guys liked this chapter! Please review if you have the chance! They mean so much to me. Unfortunately, school starts up in a couple of days, so updates will be more difficult, but please be patient! I will try my hardest to get you an update!**

**Again, REVIEW! **

**Have a fantastic day!**

**~S.A.N.e-but-inS.A.N.e~**


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